


How It Ends

by ExpressAndAdmirable



Series: The Heroes of Light [72]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Final Fantasy I
Genre: Final Battle, Gen, Promises, Saving the World, Self-Reflection, Team as Family, Tiefling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 17:11:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16433492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExpressAndAdmirable/pseuds/ExpressAndAdmirable
Summary: The Heroes of Light allow themselves to be absorbed by Chronodia so they can defeat her once and for all. (Adapted from our final D&D session, featuring art!)





	How It Ends

**Author's Note:**

> Prose version of the final major encounter of our D&D campaign. I was able to transcribe the entire thing in real time, so it felt right to turn it into prose. Aviva’s text, editing and additional descriptions by me, Chronodia’s text and scene narration by our DM, other characters' text by their respective players. Incredible piece of Chronodia art by @jiinsy on Tumblr, commissioned by our DM. Much love.

Stasis. No movement, no sound; senses both overwhelmed and negated. Weightless in the pale yellow haze. Perfection. Oneness. Communion.

No. _NO._ They would not be subsumed, would not become pieces of Chronodia’s whole. They would not be party to her meaningless vision of order, her pointless march from birth to death with none of the chaos that gave the world its meaning. They _were_ the world, and they would not give themselves up without a fight.

They pushed. With all their senses, their mortal hearts, their power as people who had walked upon the earth, they willed themselves beyond Chronodia’s grasp. They expanded, ignited, all love and rage and fierce devotion. They would not be her pawns, but they would be her allies, if she could be convinced to listen, if she could be made to see. She was not Chaos, as they had been led to believe, but Time. If she became one of them, stood by their side as the seventh essential element of existence, they could create true harmony. They could save the world they knew. This was it. They had to try.

All at once, they again had form, their bodies standing on the palms of a massive six-armed being. Chronodia looked upon them, her skin nearly blinding in the golden light, and she did not understand.

Aviva met Chronodia’s eye and concentrated as hard as she could. Opening her mind to Chronodia and to her Heroes, she conjured her experiences as Aviva Lux, not as Flame or as its other borrowed avatars but as a fully-formed person. She showed the hardships she had faced, the poverty and grief, but also the pockets of love and joy that soothed her pain and healed her heart. Her mother. The Old Man. Priya. Sol. The strings of a violin, the scent of baking pie. “The world doesn’t have to make you bitter,” she whispered, and she knew her comrades could hear. “It doesn’t have to make you ugly, or angry. Things get better and worse in cycles. That’s life.”

Chronodia fixed her with a towering gaze and spoke, in a voice that was a thousand voices ringing without and within and surrounding them with sound: BUT YOU YOURSELF HAVE ACTED IN ANGER, IN HATRED. YOU HAVE EXPERIENCED THESE THINGS AND YOU WISH TO TELL ME THAT THE PAIN YOU FEEL AND THE LOVE YOU RECEIVE IS SOME SORT OF BLESSING. AND YET I KNOW YOU HAVE LASHED OUT, HURT PEOPLE. HOW CAN YOU DEFEND THAT?

Maergrahn looked up, up, up at the immense face above him and spread his palms wide. He showed Chronodia the friends he had made since his journey began: the Heroes of Light, but also the Orcs in the Oasis, the people of Crescent Lake, the animals and creatures they had faced in battle, the dragons they had slain and the dragons they had aided. “Everyone can be a friend,” he said, gentle and resolute. “But sometimes you have to hurt or even kill a friend. It doesn't mean you love them less.”

AT WHAT POINT DOES LOVE COMPEL YOU TO KILL SOMEONE YOU LOVE? Chronodia asked. HOW DOES THAT MAKE SENSE? HOW CAN YOU DEFEND THAT?

Wilhelm tensed as Chronodia tilted her head to regard him, but he breathed deeply and squared his shoulders, drawing himself up to his full height and fixing her with a defiant stare. He imagined the absolute necessity of chaos in mortal life, random chance, the surprise of discovery, the excitement and the dismay. “The anticipation of experiencing something unexpected keeps a person truly alive from birth to death,” he murmured. “Whether good or bad, the unexpected keeps us going.”

WOULD IT NOT BE SAFER, BETTER, TO KNOW WHAT IS COMING AT ALL TIMES? Chronodia countered. TO BE ABLE TO PLAN, TO MAKE PREPARATIONS FOR ANYTHING THAT MIGHT POSSIBLY GO WRONG? HOW CAN YOU DEFEND THAT?

Conjuring a small orb of light in front of her heart, Morgan shaped it into the form of a clockwork creature, holding it out before her as she faced Chronodia. She stressed the importance of frustration and failure, how they drove creativity and inspiration, how they drove people to try harder, to do better, to be better. “It can be heartbreaking,” she admitted with a sad smile, “but it’s necessary.”

IF CREATIVITY BRINGS FAILURE, THEN IT IS NOT A BENEFIT, Chronodia answered. FAILURE IS WEAKNESS. IN A PLACE WHERE THINGS ONLY REMAIN THE SAME, NEVER MOVING FORWARD, THERE IS NO FAILURE AND THEREFORE NO NEED FOR CREATIVITY. HOW CAN YOU DEFEND THAT?

With a dry, dusty laugh, Grummer raised the brow of his one good eye as he regarded Chronodia. From the depths of his war-weary mortal soul, he conjured the feeling of life. The thrill of surviving a battle, of sparring with a comrade and besting them. _Joie de vivre_. “Pain is as natural a part of life as literally anything else,” he said simply, showing Chronodia his own journey from bloodthirsty young warrior to proud teacher to one who was ready to die without regrets. “Everyone has to lay down their sword at the end of the day.”

A LIFE SPENT ONLY IN BLOODSHED, GLORIFYING CAUSING PAIN TO OTHERS FOR THE SAKE OF JOY, STRIKES ME AS A MONSTROUS THING, Chronodia insisted. SOMETHING THAT SHOULD BE SHUNNED. IF CHAOS MEANS TAKING PLEASURE IN PAIN, IT MUST BE A BAD THING. HOW CAN YOU DEFEND THAT?

Sol lifted her chin. Her expression calm, she imparted the experiences of her mortal life. War and conflict, darkness, love and sorrow, betrayal, vengeance, redemption. Once she fought for hate, but then her eyes were opened to the full scope and reality of the world. Looking to the other Heroes, absorbing their messages, she emphasised the constancy of their wills. “All of this is immutable truth,” she told Chronodia. “This will happen. We will shape the world. You can understand and preside over that. Like the earth, Chaos and Time and Life are all partners, and you can be there, with us, for all of it.”

IT WAS NOT ALWAYS THIS WAY. IT NEED NOT BE THIS WAY IN THE FUTURE. WHAT YOU ARE SAYING IS INEVITABLE, IMMUTABLE, IS INDEED CHANGEABLE, WITH THE POWER I TAKE FROM YOU AND USE TO RESIDE OVER THIS NEW WORLD. YOU SAY EARTH AND TIME ARE SIMILAR, BUT ONE BRINGS DECAY AND ONE BRINGS ONLY PROGRESS. HOW CAN YOU DEFEND THAT?

“There is a difference between existing and living,” Aviva explained. “Chaos is a part of life. Making mistakes, doing wrong, hurting, doing things you can’t excuse of justify. They’re all opportunities to learn and grow. To be better.”

“We’re all here bonded as friends and family,” Maergrahn continued, feeding on the Heroes’ energy. “The whole world is essentially family. There’s no need to justify why you would need to hurt or kill family in the name of love; sometimes it’s a necessity for them to know peace.”

“There's more to life than anything we can ever really express in this limited time with you,” Wilhelm added, “but have you ever given it a try? Being with those who lead more chaotic lives? From birth to death?”

“You could come with us,” tried Morgan. “You could try it. Come live with us. We could take care of you. We could help you.”

“The beauty of life is in the living,” Grummer agreed. “Not a stagnant, unfeeling living. And maybe war isn't the answer. Maybe,” he conceded, “we can all find new answers.”

“Some things are constant and some things do decay, but all things change.” Sol took a half-step forward on the giant palm. “We welcome you to change with us, here and now, into something new.”

Chronodia turned her head toward Aviva, and for the first time, her voice that was a thousand voices showed a flicker of doubt. YOU AND I WERE OF A FLESH ONCE. I AM THE DEMON OF LIGHT. I STROVE AGAINST MYSELF TO ENTER THIS WORLD. IT SPLIT MY HEART IN TWO, TO GIVE BIRTH TO YOUR PEOPLE. I DO NOT KNOW IF I CAN FACE SUCH PAIN AGAIN. HOW WILL I SURVIVE?

“With us,” Aviva urged. “You can come through me, if you want to. See the world with us.”

She spoke next to Maergrahn. I DO NOT KNOW WHAT FRIENDSHIP AND FAMILY ARE. YOU DESCRIBE EVERYONE AS BEING PART OF A FAMILY, AND YET YOU SAY FAMILY MUST HURT AND DESTROY EACH OTHER. WHY MUST THIS BE SO? WHAT CAN I DO TO STOP IT?

“Nothing,” Maergrahn answered, ever guileless. Then he smiled. “But in the end, it really is worthwhile, and I recommend you give it a try.”

Chronodia peered down at Wilhelm, and it seemed as if her voices were pleading. I HAVE SEEN THE DARKNESS IN THE HEARTS OF MANY PEOPLE, INCLUDING THOSE WHO FOLLOW ME. THAT WHICH I GAVE TO THEM, I SEE REFLECTED. I HAVE SEEN THE DARKNESS IN YOUR HEART, AND IN MY OWN. I FEAR WHAT MY STRENGTH MIGHT DO. HOW CAN I HAVE THIS POWER AND HOLD IT IN CHECK?

“There's no right answer to your question,” said Wilhelm, shoving his hands into his pockets with a shrug. “You have to know yourself. You know you. You're the only person who ever will.”

I HAVE SEEN THE ANGUISH IN YOUR SPIRIT, Chronodia addressed Morgan. YOU HAVE TRIED AND FAILED TO PROTECT THOSE YOU CARE ABOUT. I HAVE WATCHED IT BREAK YOU DOWN. I HAVE WATCHED YOU GIVE UP. WHAT IF I GIVE UP? WHAT IF I FAIL? WHAT HAPPENS THEN?

A small smile appeared on Morgan’s face. “Then you get back up.”

To Grummer, Chronodia’s voices were more confused than ever. IF A LIFE AS OLD AS YOURS CAN BE FOUGHT IN SUCH A CLEAR PURPOSE FOR SO LONG, ONLY TO CHANGE AT THE VERY END, WHAT DOES THAT MEAN FOR ME? WHO HAS CHANGED BECAUSE OF YOU? WHO HAS STRAYED FROM THE PATH? ...HOW DOES IT FEEL?

“I mean, I’ve been wrong a lot,” Grummer chuckled. “You never stop learning, never stop changing, never stop making yourself better. You just... meet people. Sometimes you don't agree with them, sometimes they make friends with brain dogs that make you stupid--” he shot a glance at Maergrahn, “--but sometimes they teach you that maybe you can't punch your way out of every problem. It just doesn't work. Sometimes you gotta be friends. Sometimes you gotta give people a chance.”

I AM AFRAID OF CHANGE, Chronodia admitted to Sol. I HAVE NEVER BEEN MORE AFRAID. LOSING WHAT I AM… YOU ARE ASKING ME TO TURN MYSELF INTO YOU. WHAT DO I DO?

“You do what we have all done.” Sol’s words echoed the conviction of her fellows. “What I did. You push through, headfirst, and you live on the other side of that change, because yes, you will become one of us, and what we are is wonderful.” She reached out a hand, welcoming, and the other five mimicked the gesture. “Join us.”

The yellow-gold haze brightened until all that was visible was brilliant white, the Heroes’ ears and minds ringing with the impossible sound of great, clanging bells. For a moment that was eternity and was no time at all, they existed in the nothingness. Then the brightness faded and they were in the Temple of Chaos once again -- the six of them, right where they had vanished, and a seventh hovering above the altar.

Chronodia hugged herself tightly with her many arms, her cheeks wet with hot, silent tears. She looked shaken, almost nauseous, yet still possessed of a strange, pious mysticism even in her altered state. She looked down at her mortal form, then at each of the Heroes in turn, clasping her hands to her chest with an unreadable expression. With another flash of pure white light, she was gone.

The Heroes blinked at one another, keenly aware that somewhere, anywhere, everywhere, there was a perfect diamond as the ignited Altar of Time. They also knew beyond doubt that someday, somewhere, they might encounter someone with a strange, pious look to them with a befuddled expression on her face. They would know, in that moment, that their band of six was well and truly a band of seven.

What kind of world would the seven of them make? None of them knew. None of them wanted to know. It was enough to know that they were alive, whole, and tomorrow would be the first day of an entirely unknown world.

Sol grinned. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title song by DeVotchKa.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr at @expressandadmirable for a proper table of contents for the Heroes campaign, commissioned character art, text-based roleplay snippets and more!


End file.
